The Red Cross Girl

I've a girl in dear old Scotland said,
Mac Gregor to his mates,
And she's a bonny daisy you bet,
There's a girl in gay Paree,
then said a Frenchie of the Guards,
And she's my one, my own Petite Grisette.
Sure you're leavin' out old Ireland,
and a sweet Colleen from Cork,
Said a Fusilier from Erin's Em'rald Isle,
But a Cockney then spoke up and said,
fill your loving cup,
Here's the one that I am loving all the while.

Now you have talked about your sweethearts,
But there's a girl who in this war,
You'll always find a mid the shot and shell,
And where the cannon roar.
She is an angel to the wounded,
And where the battle flags unfurl,
She risks her life for you upon the field,
It's the Red Cross Girl.

Now you all must take your hats off
to dear Florence Nightingale,
The angel of the old Crimean war,
She was founder of the Red Cross*
and the first one of them all,
To venture where the flames of battle soar.
Then there's dear old Clara Barton
of the Yankee Doodle Do,
Who as nurse was 'mong the bravest of the brave,
And the English nurse Miss Bell,
who was buried where she fell,
At Le Mans with those she gave her life to save.

Now you have talked about your sweethearts,
But there's a girl who in this war,
You'll always find a mid the shot and shell,
And where the cannon roar.
She is an angel to the wounded,
And where the battle flags unfurl,
She risks her life for you upon the field,
It's the Red Cross Girl.

 

*Florence Nightingale was not the founder of the Red Cross.